My alarm screamed at 6:45 AM like it was announcing the end of the world.I slapped it quiet with the kind of practiced reflex that only comes from years of loathing mornings. For a second, I laid still, eyes half-open, trying to convince myself this day would be normal.
It wouldn't be.
I had that dream again.
Not the one where I'm late for finals or where I forget to wear pants to class—no, the dream.
The sky was red, burning red, like the clouds had caught fire and no one bothered to put them out. A tower of black stone pierced the horizon, and around it, shadows knelt. At the top, someone was screaming—a voice both monstrous and… familiar.
But what stuck with me wasn't the flame or the scream.
It was the feeling.A bone-deep warmth, like something inside me was waking up. Like I belonged in that place.
I blinked at the ceiling of my small, second-floor bedroom. Peeling posters of metal bands and anime girls stared back. My world—average, dull, suburban—shouldn't feel like a lie. But lately, it did.
"Kai! Breakfast!"
Mom's voice cut through my thoughts. Warm. Cheerful. Ordinary.
I got up, shook off the dream, and pulled on my uniform.
Whatever. Dreams are just dreams, right?
Our apartment smelled like eggs, coffee, and incense. The last one was Mom's doing—some weird habit she'd picked up over the years. "Cleanses bad energy," she always said with a smile. Sometimes I wondered if she meant it literally.
Mom was at the stove, humming an old tune I didn't recognize. She wore an apron that said World's Okay-est Parent, which was painfully on-brand for her.
"Morning, flamebrain," she said without turning around.
"Still going with that nickname, huh?" I groaned as I slumped into the chair.
"You're seventeen. I've earned it."
She slid a plate in front of me. Scrambled eggs, toast, bacon shaped into a smiley face. Cute. Embarrassing. Delicious.
"You were tossing in your sleep again," she said casually, sipping her coffee.
I paused mid-bite. "Did I say anything?"
She shook her head. "Nope. But I've seen you have that dream before."
I stared at her. "Wait—what do you mean seen?"
Mom looked at me then. Really looked. Her eyes weren't just green—they were old. Not wrinkled-old. Worn. Like someone who'd seen storms and carried them inside.
"I mean," she said, "you're my son. I know when something's not right."
I didn't push. Not because I believed her, but because something about her tone made my skin prickle.
She was hiding something. Again.
I left for school with my headphones in and my brain on autopilot.Our town—Valewood—was the kind of place that pretended it didn't have secrets. But walk around long enough, and you'd find old churches with locked basements, statues that never gathered dust, and people who whispered the name "Lucien" like it burned their tongue.
I didn't care about any of that. I cared about making it through the day without falling asleep in class or getting into another fight.
Spoiler: I'd manage one of those.
First period was English Lit. Mr. Renner was talking about Faust, again."Power always comes with a price," he droned. "And the devil—Mephistopheles, in this case—never gives without taking."
I stared out the window, letting his words blur into the background.
Power. Price. Devil.
Why did that feel... pointed?
"You agree, Mr. Vale?"
Crap.
I looked up. Mr. Renner raised an eyebrow at me.
"Uh," I said, buying time. "I think Faust was just an idiot."
Some snickers from the class. Renner sighed.
"Care to elaborate?"
"Sure," I said, sitting up. "He traded his soul because he was bored. Not desperate. Not dying. Just… bored. Anyone dumb enough to sell everything for curiosity kinda deserves what they get."
More laughter. Renner looked unimpressed.
"Noted," he said dryly. "Let's try to think a little deeper next time."
By lunch, I was already fried.I sat under the tree by the courtyard, headphones back in, music blasting. No friends around. Not because I didn't like people. I just… didn't fit.
Something about me always made others uncomfortable.
I didn't know what. I just knew it was there. Like I was too hot to stand next to—not physically, I mean like standing near a campfire that might explode.
And then she walked in.
New girl.
She didn't look lost, but everyone else looked like they didn't know what to do with her. Students stared. Whispers started.
Long silver hair, glowing skin, and eyes like they could see straight through you. She walked like she owned gravity. Not arrogant—just like she didn't need permission to exist.
She looked at me.
Dead-on.
And smiled.
What.
I yanked my headphones off.
"...hi?"
She approached, calm and sure. No tray. No books.
Just her.
"You're Kai Vale," she said.
I blinked. "Do I know you?"
"No. But I know what you are."
My heart skipped.
"What do you mean by that?"
She sat beside me like we were old friends. Leaned in just enough to make me nervous.
"You've felt it, haven't you?" she said quietly. "The heat. The voice in your dreams. The pull toward the flame."
My throat dried up.
This girl—whoever she was—knew something.
"Who are you?"
She held out her hand. "Aria."
I didn't take it.
She didn't seem to care.
"You're not crazy, Kai," she said. "You're waking up."
"What does that mean?"
She smiled again—soft, almost sad.
"Everything you know is a lie."
After school, I went home in a daze.
Mom wasn't there. Not unusual—she worked late sometimes. But the air felt... off. Like someone had been here. Like they were watching.
I checked the apartment twice. Locked everything. Even shut the blinds.
Then I saw it.
A burn mark on my bedroom wall.
Faint. Circular. Like someone had branded it from the inside.
In the center was a symbol I'd never seen before—yet somehow knew.
A crown of horns.
And underneath it: "Heir."
My hand trembled.
I didn't remember burning it.
But the tips of my fingers were warm.